


Of Crows and Doves

by Estmontedespro



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estmontedespro/pseuds/Estmontedespro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryou and Malik, belonging within the same land, held a once simple life until a foreign man is introduced to them by Marik. After a devastating blow the the Ishtar family, the four of them enter into a game of trust and lies. Ryou once thought that trust was a difficult thing to lie about, but when Akefia enters the picture the act becomes more than simple. Lying becomes a necessity. "Besides, a crow and dove glide the same in the wind but only show their true natures when they land."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Crows and Doves

The throne was more massive than he had remembered as a child. Gold grabbed at itself to rise in an arch above the sitter's head, arms ending in the shape of massive dragon heads. The jewels of their eyes glinted as light hit their sapphire hues. Its gold twinkled in the moonlight that was cast through the curtains. The purple cloth had been drawn up for the prince's bath because he preferred to bathe in the light of darkness.  
The bathtub was ornate in detail, careful detail that was ignored by most of the upperclassmen. Because those men expected the ornate and decorative finery they often took the marksmanship for granted. The white marble curved around the edges, jutting up like a peasant's shoulders. There were splashes of darker marble that gave it an almost eerie look, making it look like creature's were lurking in the waters, waiting to drag the prince beneath the surface. The feet clawed the floor, the hose coiling around the faucet. The prince's tub was sitting in the middle of the room, water dribbling onto the rug beneath it. The rug was massive, Persian in its handiwork. Very expensive material danced together to create the image that resided on the floor. A great serpent, impressive, but drowning in the water that was foolishly allowed to fall onto it.  
The only other thing in the throne room was a desk that was shoved into the corner, the place where the council members hunched over paperwork to discuss the accused's punishment. The sight was almost humorous, the large men trying to huddle around the small wooden structure when hardly one of them could fit within its chair. Each time one of the men would attempt to sit in the tiny chair they would nearly lose their balance, glance to ensure no one had seen, and resume his mantle as the most massive man in the room. The scene held a rough and tattered look, not serving the same purpose as the rest of the room. The other ornate trinkets were meant to impress, to brag, but the desk was there to determine, to destroy lives.  
When the prince finished his bath the servants would remove the marble tub from the room, hidden in another room until the next night. Muscles were wasted because the prince enjoyed stroking his ego by bathing in the throne room, on the opposite end of the washroom. It was a silly thing seeing as how the boy was the youngest child, never able to receive the title of king. His elder brother would be the first candidate, and the kingdom adored its bronzed future king.  
The way that he perceived the situation was that the boy was actually a sad child, forgotten by the other members of his family who tended to place their regards and affection on his elder sibling. He had grown fond of the other boy, and would go so far as to call him a cherished friend, one he would swear to protect and defend. He would try to give him the attention that he craved but was unable to earn from anyone else.  
"Ry, could you sleep with me again tonight?" The prince turned to the white haired boy, the water splashing once more onto the floor. His eyes were eager in waiting, but when he did not get the answer soon enough, he prompted once more. "Father said it would be fine, if you were ok with it. I assured him that there would be no problem."  
Ryou sighed, a smile on his face. He nodded, agreeing to sleep with the other. Every night it was the same and had been for years. The blonde male was always insistent, never letting up until the other saw his way. It had gotten to the point where the prince could not sleep without the other beside him, confined in his arms. While their nights were protected from the outside influences of the world, morning always brought reality. The young prince would awaken, the other boy gone. The prince was fine with that outcome because each time he woke the place beside him would still be warm, the outline of the other's body freshly wrinkled in place. Morning always brought troubles. The two would have to part, he going to his lessons, Ry going to his work. Those were the hard times, the time he spent away from the other boy.  
"Of course I will, don't I always Your Majesty?" It was a rhetorical question that they both knew the answer to, so the prince was not sure why he nodded his head.  
"Ry, you know I hate that. I have a birthname, you know. " The violet orbs rolled. "When it's just us is it so hard to call me Malik? I mean, give the Majesty thing a break before it breaks me."  
"Ok, Mal. It's just…you never know when the walls are listening." Ryou could not help but shake his head at the other boy's rant, and his eyes followed the tanned body as it stood from the tub.  
The white haired male held up a hand, gesturing for the other to stay still for a moment more. The threat on the rug from the wet of the other's body was too much for him to watch. He moved to the throne, picking up the white fluff that was waiting almost as anxiously as the other. It was ironic that such a simple thing was able to reside on the most influential piece of craftsmanship when other people only dreamed of seeing it with their own eyes. Those who vainly tried to touch it while visiting soon regretted their decisions. Not long after they were strung in the gallows, the breaths they'd held when they saw it suddenly cut short. Picking up the towel, Ryou turned his attention away from the kingdom's injustice and moved towards his friend. His hands moved quickly, rubbing the water from Malik's body. The blonde did not waste his time and quickly stepped from the basin. When the other stepped from the basin the smaller wrapped the towel around the other's midriff, watching the care that Malik ignored as his feet created other puddles on the rug.  
Malik smiled towards the other, gesturing for him to follow into his chambers. As they were leaving the servants ushered in, beginning to move and clean the room for the early morning persecutions.  
Ryou could never get over the beauty that was in Malik's room. Lavender accents were everywhere. The bed was embroidered to match the rugs and drapes, jewels encrusted the artwork, and the incense that burned gave the smell of lavender. The white oak was used to craft all of the furniture that resided in the room, giving the room a soft feel with the mixture of both colors. Ryou's favorite thing in the room was a piece of artwork that hung above Malik's bed, the colors matching everything else in the room. The strokes of white and lavender illustrated the sunrise over a body of water in some neighboring country. When Malik rode with his brother for peace negotiations the neighboring country's greatest artist had presented it to him upon arrival. Malik had wanted to give the painting away but when he saw the happiness in Ryou's eyes he had decided to keep the simple thing. The room he chose to hang it in was his own, mainly because he wanted Ryou to be the happiest with him.  
Malik dropped his towel once inside the room as Ryou secured that the doors were locked. By the time the white haired boy had made his way over to the bed and drawn away the bed curtains and sheets, Malik had lit another lavender incense for the rest of the night. The smell lulled the both of them to the bed, the mattress dipping and fitting to their forms. Malik breathed out the stress of the day, an arm pulling the smaller closer. Ryou did not mind that Malik was nude beneath the sheets because he'd grown accustomed to it over the years. The prince had never been fond of clothing, even as a child. Ryou's head found the crook of Malik's neck, his eyelids closing to the rest of the world. All that existed for the night was the scent that wafted throughout the room and the perfume that clung to the blonde boy. It was surprisingly not lavender but a cocoa that Malik had bought from the South. If Ryou smelt the smell anywhere he would think of the blonde haired male no matter where he was; it was one of many things that evoked thoughts of Malik.  
They both allowed sleep to dance over them, each content if just for the moment. As Ryou drifted to sleep he felt the weight of the bronze boys head atop his own and he managed a small smile before the dark took him.  
When Malik woke the next morning the destruction of his brother was at the top of his list of priorities. Instead of simply asking his younger brother to wake up and join him for a stroll he drug the blonde boy off his bed. After an hour or so of curses and laughter the younger bronzed boy stood, arms outstretched. The scowl never left his face. As the younger blonde was dressed by his handmaids he remained irritated, grumbling and cursing the other that stood so close, laughing like he always did. It pissed the younger off more than anything. That was the main reason the other liked to stand so close and laugh so loud; to piss Malik off.  
"Your laugh is stupid." As his hair was pulled from underneath his clothing and being attended his brother only grinned. "And that's creepy, you big psycho."  
As the younger was made ready he took one last glare at the other, before grabbing his gloves. This was the worst way to begin his day, he'd prefer lessons. Sitting in a room with some crusty old coot looked like heaven when compared to walking with this crazy bastard against his will. Marik slung his arm around the other male's shoulder, guiding him out the door.  
They walked past all of the bowing housemaids, swooning women, and the glaring peasants without sparing a single one acknowledgement. Since their father was away on unfinished business in Egypt the castle and kingdom at hand was left under Marik's watchful gaze. Everyone seemed content to place their lives in his hands, but Malik knew better than the rest of them. Marik was not going to be the pleasant leader that they all thought him to be. No, while his father was quite cold at times he was an angel in comparison to the real Marik. If Marik wanted something badly enough he could reach a level of psychotic anger no one had time to prepare themselves for.  
Yesterday the kingdom saw a glimpse of the real Marik when a petty thief was found in the marketplace. The boy was young and was most likely under the influence of his peers. Regardless of any of these factors Marik had removed his sword and the boy's hand within a minute of each other. After doing so he excused himself and turned his attention to the next stand, dropping the still twitching hand to the sands. Later that day Malik had found him in the garden with the hand, smiling down at it.  
"There will be guests joining us in less than an hour, so I must inform you on how you are to act." Marik opened to doorway to his private garden, leading the other to the bench in the center. "He is a very influential man in Egypt, who we will call Akefia for the sake of placing a name on the face. I know as well as you do that when father perishes the Egyptians will make their move. That pharaoh plans to take our lands from us but unfortunately for him I have no plans to give them away. What I plan to do is take him out from the inside. The other man is coming with news of father's raids, and we will try to make his stay as pleasant as possible. At dinner you should dress in something nice, befitting of your title; nothing like those rags that you have on now. Be polite and see that he is tended to in a way he has never seen before. He is to stay in the room adjacent to your own because my hallway is full. Though, seeing as how I do not completely trust the man, I want to place a little spy with him, to make sure he minds his own manners. As for the spy, I was wondering if you had anyone in mind."  
The younger blonde blinked at the flood of information, he was not even aware that there was a turmoil between their family and the pharaoh. He also did not know that his brother had been planning this as thoroughly as he had been. He'd never heard of this other man, and he was not sure he was ready to meet any of his brother's secret acquaintances. He was left speechless, unsure of how to answer. Knowing he had to give some kind of response he shook his head.  
"Well, I have been thinking of this for a while and I believe that the person perfect for this task is Ryou." Malik's head snapped towards his brother. "We both know that he is loyal, and he follows everything that you say to point. I will ensure that he is safe and that he is protected. I think-"  
"Wait just a damn minute! I will not be sacrificing my friend to your cause of pleasing some man I have never heard of! "  
He had jumped out of his seat, his breathing exasperated. Gazing fiercely at his mirror image he let it be made known that there was going to be no room for discussion. While Marik usually grew irate when he was not given his way he did have a little more of a lenient attitude when it came to his little brother.  
"Alright, little one. But just think about it. I'm sure we can come to terms." Marik stood, his hand darting out to caress a white rose bush. "Oh, don't forget. One hour and he will be joining us. Please change your clothes."  
As he left the garden Malik fell back onto the bench. Wincing at the steel hitting his back, he moved forward to spare his backside. Scanning his surroundings, he took notice of the beauty around him. All of the flowers were in a set spot, perfectly placed. The fountain that resided in the middle spewed water of the purest blue, little fish swimming to get away from the streams. Birds flew overhead, landing to feed their little ones. But this bench was so hard, startling those fooled by the white gold that it was erected out of. He tilted his head back, looking up to the sky. There was no telling how tonight would play out but he knew better than to attend dinner late. Marik would go into a tantrum he did not wish to see the likes of. An exasperated sigh left his lips and he ran his fingers through his hair. The last thing he noticed before returning to his chamber was the petals from the white rose, now on the floor.  
When he arrived in his room he was met by Ryou, who had obviously been told about their guest. He had changed, adorning white silk in place of his normal baggy clothes that he wore while performing housework. The new outfit was flowing, dipping at all of the perfect curves of the white haired boy's body. It was a wonderful sight, but one that was foreign to the blondes eyes. He was almost certain that it was Egyptian because he could recall a similar look in one of his teachings. The picture in question would have paled in comparison to the beauty that Ryou was. He stood in the white gown, gold curling throughout his hair and down his arms. A light belt hung around his waist, gold hanging to accent his hips. Ryou smiled, completing the perfect image that Malik took a mental capture of. The blonde boy's hand reached to caress the other's face, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin. There were no words he could utter to express how he felt upon seeing the other smiling, more beautiful than ever, in his room.  
"They just came in this morning." The white haired boy's words confused the still entranced blonde. Ryou moved away from the blonde's hand, bending to pick up a box from the bed. Malik's confusion was spared when the boy held up a tattered box. He walked next to the other boy, suddenly curious as to what was inside. A pale hand pulled the twine that secured the box tightly shut until its flaps unveiled the hidden treasure. Violet eyes were assaulted by a sea of color.  
The clothing that was drawn out was the exact same style as Ryou's with silver and violet in place of gold and white. He scowled at the thought of dressing like this just for the foreigner's contentment, but let himself be stripped, enjoying the soft touches that came from the pads of the white haired boy's fingers.  
The cloth felt nice against his sun kissed skin, so light that he could easily forget it was present. The belt was heavier than he had thought it would be, pulling the garment down to show off the blonde's frame better. It surprised the blonde that the slimmer boy was able to hold himself upright with the added burden. Ryou placed the flat shoes that were made of the same cloth on the other's bronzed skin feet. The gentle touch on the backside of his ankle caused the prince to shiver, and he settled with closing his eyes to enjoy the rest of his pampering.  
Once he was dressed in the clothes that were presented he was coaxed to the vanity chair. He was patient as Ry's hands worked through his hair, silver trinkets now carefully in place. At the soft pressing of the other's palms against his shoulders he opened his eyes. He was confronted with his own reflection, and could not resist the scowl that flashed across his face. His hair was pulled away from his face, the gown showed his slim frame, and the jewelry was in careful placement. He could not help but think he looked like a flat woman. Violet eyes shifted to see the other figure in the mirror, white hair weaving into his blonde. The smile across the other's face caused his own to light up.  
Knowing that the moment would come to an end soon he stood, offering his arm to Ryou. A light touch let him know that the day would end; leaving him in the other boy's arms once more. The thought was enough to push his body into a mechanical state, moving through the motions of reaching his brother.  
As they made their way into the dining hall Ryou noticed the approaching team to the right of the castle. The horses matched their riders, all black in suit. Their gallops were as quiet as the bodies riding on the horse's backs. He could see no saddles that were used to steer the team. Before he could finish assessing the group of riders another body came into his view. This man was different from the rest, making wind faster than the others. His speed was not the only difference he had from the other men. The man's red cape flowed behind him, bunching around a mass of white hair at the shoulders. At the distance he could only make out one more thing; the man's skin seemed permanently scorched by the sun, so dark that Malik seemed pale in comparison. The horse matched its rider's hair in color, white flowing into darkened hooves. Over the treetops he could see that even though the riders were a small group there were sails that suggested more bodies were on the way.  
The doors that lead into the dining hall stood open in welcome but its halls were absent in number. It was apparent in the lack of numbers that they were to greet the man elsewhere. The blonde turned, steering the two in the opposite direction. Ryou followed Malik's lead to the castle steps where the other members of the house stood in waiting.  
Marik wore similar attire as the smaller two minus multiple aspects of theirs. Instead of a long colorful gown his was short and void of all color. His chest was left uncovered but there was a cape fastened around his shoulders. With his regal stance and golden jewels he was the image of a god in human flesh. It was a nearly humorous scene, the members of such a renounced house assimilating to a stranger.  
As the team neared the castle the mood became more anxious. Ryou's grip tightened, Malik's glare intensified, and Marik's grin widened. The closer they got the more Ryou was able to make out about the pack. Along with no saddle there was no cloud of dirt lingering behind them nor were there reigns around the horses. The men held their spots by gripping at the animal's hair. He was not sure whether they were brave or barbaric in their riding logic.  
When the horses came to a final stop the riders in black took their time in getting to their feet. The man that Ryou perceived as Akefia was the first to drop from the horse, small dirt clouds forming around his sandals. Before the Egyptian male acknowledged any of the figures awaiting him, he whispered softly to the mare as he held his face against its own.  
When he finally lifted his head to meet their gazes his horse lead the others back along the path they had just come from. Ryou had to suppress a gasp that threatened to escape his lips when the man's intense gaze fell on him. Those eyes drifted from body to body, taking careful time scanning each body, memorizing down to the finest of details. The man seemed to find what he was looking for; his scowl turned into a snarky grin.  
As he made the ascent towards the group Ryou's eyes scanned him for a sign of what the man was going to be like. There was a nasty scar surrounding the man's eye, stretching from cheek to hairline. The pale boy could not make out its origin just by simply looking at it but it appeared to be clean cut, void of struggle. Clothing wise he presented himself as a man of class but the way that he held himself suggested otherwise. Shoulders drooped low, bending his back to look like a beggar. The air around him was nothing like a beggar. He held himself so proudly, chin held high and legs moving in long strides. Aside from his regal clothes the jewels that adorned his entire body could put all of the kingdom's jewelers out of business within a single day. There were cloth bags hanging around his waistline, the weight of them ensured more riches within. The red that was cinched around his shoulders left his chest just as bare as Marik's. However, with his darker tan and rippling muscles glowing in the sun's rays he looked much stronger in comparison. With the scars scattered across his abdomen he wore a promise of endurance in the face of challenge. All of the qualities surrounding him there was but one thing missing from his form; shame.  
When he arrived to the trio he clasped onto Marik's hand in greeting, pulling the two closer. They exchanged words, uttered in Egyptian so that those around would not understand. Ryou looked towards Malik, wondering if the blonde could understand the words they were saying. When the prince shook his head Ryou turned his attention back towards the other two. Scanning their body language he tried to make something out of their conversation. Nothing was given away by their frantic gestures so he soon gave that attempt up. When the larger two turned their attention to the smaller males the white haired boy averted his gaze.  
"Find the ground suddenly interesting?" The tone was harsh, gruff in octave and thick in its Egyptian accent.  
When the pale boy's eyesight was invaded with the darker male's chest he turned his eyes upwards to the taller man. There was amusement playing in the man's eyes, a smirk across his face. The proximity he had ensured to the smaller boy caused Ryou to take a step away from him. There was something present in the man's eyes that the smaller male decided he did not like. He was not sure if the words the man had uttered were some kind of sinister promise or a sweet greeting. But he was currently leaning towards the former.  
"No, I think he found your little greeting less than an eye sore." Malik moved in between the two white haired males, his hand jutting forward. "Malik, and this is my friend Ryou."  
"Friend indeed…" The dark skinned man moved his eyes slowly away from Ryou's to give attention to the prince. Those deep hues grew more annoyed the longer he held Malik's stare. After a moment he decided to take the offered hand. "I forget how strange you Westerners are in your customs. This is more of an insult to my people. A handshake is a silent way of saying, 'Please don't get any closer.' You'd lose this hand back home."  
"Welcome to the West then." Malik's tone had gone sour and he did not try to hide his own annoyance with the foreigner. He ignored the warning that was in his brother's gaze, instead turning on heel and walking inside with Ryou's hand in his own. "I'm sure you're famished, so, we should eat."  
Ryou glanced over his shoulder as he hooked his fingers around Malik's. The two taller males were following, Akefia's gaze never leaving the smaller white haired male; Marik's scowl never turning away from Malik.  
Dinner was more awkward than their meeting had been, aside from the china clanking they sat in silence. Akefia only turned his attention from Ryou when prompted by Marik's questions. Likewise, Malik's glare never left the strange man unless prompted by Ryou's conversation.  
The pale boy sat still, wiggling in discomfort. The entire meal he could feel mahogany eyes roaming his frame and he had to resist returning the attention. His reasoning for ignoring the man's gaze was so that he would not give him some satisfaction. Other than the foreigner's gaze he could feel Malik's irritation seeping over the room. When he turned his attention to the blonde he confirmed his thoughts tenfold. Not only was the bronze boy irritated but his entire atmosphere was upset by the dark man's being there.  
Ryou tried coaxing Malik's mood with small talk but it did little to help. The more he tried to ease Malik the louder the Egyptian chewed, ripping the meat away with his hands and teeth. With every tear Ryou found himself unable to ignore the noises and would glance in the vile man's direction. This seemed to please the man, causing him to grin and chew more vulgarly. His actions caused Ryou to place his utensils down before dessert because he was sickened by the scene. In turn he decided to take his mind away from the scene. Turning towards Malik he chuckled at the other boy's face. The blonde was frozen, fork midway in his mouth. Nose scrunched upwards, his entire face portrayed horror at the man's lack of etiquette.  
Hearing Ryou laugh, Malik glanced towards the smaller male, knowing the other's humor came from his despair. As he opened his mouth to scold the white haired boy the Egyptian slammed his hands onto the table. Jumping, Malik looked towards him with disbelief at his sudden outburst. Tilting his chair back, Akefia picked out the residue between his teeth. The stray pieces that he flicked away glided near the young prince as if on purpose.  
"Got some bad news for you kids." As his chair legs hit the floor he looked towards Marik. "I got a letter from a friend of mine from back home with some bad news."  
"What is it?" Malik was the one with the question, his eyes intent on the answer.  
"Well, it's about your father." After a dramatic sigh the man continued, eyes dancing to meet the blonde's. "He fell to the pharaoh a few days back. Seems the little imp was out not only for his country but his life as well."  
A solemn haze fell over the table, no one knowing how to react and wishing the other would be the first to do so. Marik was the first to make a move, standing to move behind his little brother. The tall blonde wrapped his hands around the back of the smaller blonde's chair. His grip was so intense that his veins were emerging from beneath his skin.  
"If that is how the Pharaoh wants to play the game he will get the play of his life." He moved slower than usual across the room, placing a hand on opposite sides of the windowpane. As the moon was rising over the hilltops in the distance the room understood what he intended. "We will start our invasion next week. Round up all of our men, contact our allies, and send that bastard of a pharaoh a letter for me."  
The butlers bustled around the room, all trying to abide by his will.  
"Marik, I think you are-"  
"Listen closely Malik, as king I have all right to move as I see fit. If anyone sees a problem in that statement I will see them immediately imprisoned. "Malik closed his lips firmly, catching the underlying threat in his brother's tone.  
"My friend, I have my own banners waiting to set sail at your command mere minutes away." Akefia moved behind Marik, placing a hand on his shoulder. As his hand soothed the tall blonde's shoulder a smirk wafted in his eyes. "All you have to do is utter the words."

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of work was originally posted under my Fanfiction account but I am currently working on moving the stories I intend to keep under this new account. Thank you for reading and I look forward to hearing from you. Let me know how you like the characters' portrayal and what you enjoy or even what may be confusing. Best, Madz


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